


Post-its

by FanWriter



Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: Based on the book series, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 16:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanWriter/pseuds/FanWriter
Summary: ''Buy stock in Post-its.''





	Post-its

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story was written entirely on my phone before it got typed out. I have a memo pad on my phone and it took up 9 separate memos.

Noah took the stairs to his apartment two at a time and jammed the key into the lock. He quickly entered and stopped short seeing Sydney leaned up against the kitchen counter. ''Hey.''

''Hey. You ok?'' she asked, giving him a quick kiss as he detoured to her on his way to the closet.

''Yeah. Last minute assignment. My plane leaves in an hour,'' he said, grabbing his duffle bag from under the bed.

He vaguely noticed Sydney going to the bathroom and coming back out, taking full notice of her when she held out a clear toiletries bag to him. ''What's this?''

''I saw on the news about the TSA cutting down on the ounces you're allowed to bring. I went to the store to get a travel kit and got you one while I was at it.''

''Thanks,'' he said, glancing briefly to make sure it had everything he needed before tossing it in his bag.

Sydney sat down on the bed beside the bag as Noah went back and forth stuffing things inside. ''I was actually just making a grocery list,'' she motioned to the counter. ''Anything you need?''

''No,'' he muttered distractedly. ''I'm good.''

She rolled her eyes at his single mindedness. ''We're almost out of cereal. Do you really like Cap'n Crunch, or did you just say that because I did? It's ok to like something different, you know,'' she joked. ''I won't think awful of you for liking, say ... Fruit Loops.''

''I do like Cap'n Crunch,'' he said, still distracted, ''but I prefer the peanut butter kind.''

He didn't notice Sydney going still, until her hesitant voice reached his ears. ''It's not a simple recon, is it.''

He looked up sharply, then realized she wasn't really asking him so much as stating an observation.

''I figured you'd be evasive, but you gave me a straight answer. It's a high risk mission.''

He ran a finger down her cheek and pushed back a strand of hair behind her ear. ''I'll be back in three days.''

She gave a jerky nod, then stood abruptly and grabbed her purse and grocery list. ''I'm leaving first then because if I have to watch you leave then I'll just end up wallowing.'' She turned back to give him a hard hug. ''I'll have peanut butter Cap'n Crunch in the cabinet when you get back.''

He hugged her back just as hard, glad that she was steadfastly confident that he would be coming back. He wasn't really so sure himself, but it was Dixon out there at the hands of some lunatic. The guy had a second kid on the way - no way he was saying no to the rescue op, especially after Cole had _volunteered_ to go. He'd never trusted Cole, and not just because of what he'd said to Sydney. He was afraid that if Cole got to Dixon then he'd try to tit-for-tat him; at the very least, he reasoned, if he got to Dixon first the man wouldn't have to worry about paying him back for it.

He gave her a kiss, reiterating, ''Three days,'' both for her and himself before watching her walk out the door and getting back to packing.

<O>

Noah tiredly opened his apartment door, trying to roll a kink out of his neck. He'd been on the mark about Cole. As soon as they were on the ground with a group of foreign allies, the other man had tried to take point. He'd been able to easily convince Cole that Dixon was most likely being held on the west side of the building, taking the east side for himself. Cole looked almost resentful when he wasn't the one to come out with Dixon, and it sent a tingle down his spine. Dixon, although a little worse for wear, was going to be ok; the cover story of having been mugged already having been fed to his wife before they'd even landed.

When he turned and locked the door behind him, he noticed a yellow Post-it note on the wall beside the door.

_There are nine notes. Can you find them all?_

Assuming one was about the cereal, he went to the cabinet. Sure enough, there was one on the box.

_This is actually the third box of peanut butter Cap'n Crunch - you were right, they do taste better. Missing you._

He smirked, seeing the number two had been crossed out to be replaced with the three. He shook the box. A few days longer and the three would've been a four, he reasoned.

His eyes landed upon the refrigerator, where three more Post-its were attached.

_I made an ice cream sandwich out of the peanut butter cereal. Chocolate ice cream. I should have asked what flavor of ice cream you like but that can be another conversation for another day. There's also chocolate milk in the fridge - peanut butter and chocolate just go together. Missing you._

_I made a lasagna, it's in the freezer if you want to heat some up. Still missing you._

_I'd ordered a pizza for lunch today and they mistaked my green peppers for the really hot ones. About burned off my tongue. They gave me a voucher for a fee one if you want to use it. Still missing you._

The last Post-it had an arrow pointing to the right of it, where side voucher was being held in place by an opened book magnet. His brow furrowed in thought; the magnet wasn't his, and with it being a book it was most likely Sydney's, he just didn't know when it came to be in his apartment. He fingered the magnet as he glanced around to see what else of Sydney's that had made it's way in here without him noticing.

He clocked in on a few things, nothing really major had changed, but he remained focused on the remaining Post-its.

From his dresser, he pulled one that read:

_I threw away your socks - there were holes in them! A new pack has been washed and folded in their place. I put the old ones in a small box under the kitchen sink; I figured they'd make good cleaning cloths. Miss you._

Another one on the desk, next to the Post-it note pad seemed to be more of a reminder to herself than to him.

_Buy stock in Post-its._

One on the open closet door proclaimed:

_Don't wear the shirts on the hanger that have been rubber banded together. I did the laundry but I didn't have time to iron your shirts; the bank's sending me out of town for a week. I didn't want them to wrinkle further so I hung them up together and will iron them when I get back. Now I'm really missing you._

Upon checking the bathroom, he found one taped to the wall beside the shower stall.

_The shower head went wonky so I got you a new one. I tried to find one similar to the one you already had. The is the closest I found; the difference being it has a few different settings. I left the manual on the counter so you could see. Last page. Missing you._

He looked to the counter and saw the instruction manual already flipped to the right page.

Back in the main room, one stuck to the TV, saying:

_There's going to be a documentary on Friday about ancient Greece. I thought my buff history buff might find it interesting. Too corny? Still missing you._

Yeah, it was corny, he thought, but seeing as how he wouldn't be seeing her until Tuesday - with tonight being Thursday - he found it more endearing. He then abruptly shook himself of finding something endearing.

The last Post-it was stuck to his bedside lamp with two arrows drawn onto it; one going down and the other to the left, the end points meeting. The arrow to the left drew his attention to the navy blue robe on his bed post, his eyes automatically traveling to Sydney's side of the bed to see a lilac robe draped in similar manner. The arrow going down lead to a sheet of paper that she must have torn from her notebook. He blinked; so far all her notes had fit on the Post-it, even if she used more than one. What about a robe warranted a whole sheet of paper?

_You have one nosy neighbor. Or she's lonely. Probably both._

_Anyway, after finishing up at work I was exhausted (seriously; I ended the day with Yoav). So I come in and I was contemplating just crashing, but I'd washed the sheets earlier so I decided to shower first instead. So I get done, dry my hair - and then realize that I'd left my duffle bag with my clothes in the car. Argh!_

_I didn't want to put my sweaty clothes back on for the less-than-a-minute it would take to get it, and it was dark outside and your towels are big, so I figured no one would see me. So I re-wrapped the towel tighter around me and made the mad dash. Got to the car, grabbed the bag, double-timed the stairs, I'm on the landing, I'm four doors away from sliding into home ... when a door opens, and out steps your lovely neighbor, Mrs. Goodenstat._

_She. Would. Not. Stop. Talking._

_We stood out there for an hour and a half. To make things worse was that during that time, five - five! - of your other neighbors passed by us and wouldn't stop staring._

_You know how she ends the conversation? ''Why, dear, you look frigid. You best get inside and warm up a bit. I don't know what you were thinking, coming out in nothing but a towel. Kids these days.'' Seriously? If it wasn't for old wisenheimers like her, kids like me would've made it inside before getting catcalled and butt slapped (I dealt with the last guy by buying a fish and disposing of the parts I didn't use in his car - in the sun)._

_So that's why we have robes now. I debated putting them in the closet but I figured them being in easy reach was best._

_Still missing you!_

Noah closed his eyes and laughed, falling to the bed as he called to mind the image of Sydney in the cream colored towel running outside.


End file.
